Healing Dr. Fortune by JUDY DUARTE Page B

table.
    She brightened when he entered the room. “How was your day?”
    â€œIt was great.” Not only had he enjoyed having dinner with Kirsten, but he’d been part of the medical effort to save a young boy’s leg. “How about yours?”
    â€œIt was all right.”
    Actually, Jeremy realized, nothing would ever be “all right” again until William Fortune returned to his family—one way or another.
    â€œWould you like something to drink?” Lily asked. “I can pour you a cup of tea, but there are decanters of bourbon and Scotch in the bar, if you’d like something stronger.”
    â€œThanks, but I’ll just get myself some water. I’ll be back in a minute.”
    When Jeremy returned with his glass, he took a seat on one of the chairs facing his aunt.
    At sixty-five, Lily was still an attractive woman. Her Apache and Spanish heritage provided her with high cheekbones and large dark eyes, lending her an exotic beauty.
    â€œI don’t like to think of you staying home all alone,”
    Jeremy said, although he knew why she did. She wanted to be near the phone in the event that William called or the police had news about him.
    Lily poured a spot of tea into her delicate china cup.
    â€œThere’s always a ranch hand in the yard. And Rosita is just a phone call and a short walk away. So I’ll be fine.”
    Ruben and Rosita Perez lived in a three-bedroom house on the property, which was the only reason Jeremy felt comfortable leaving her to drive into town and volunteer at the clinic. But it wasn’t the same as having someone in the house with her, someone to keep her company and make sure she was eating.
    â€œWhy don’t you invite Maria to join you and Rosita for lunch one of these days?” he suggested.
    A slow smile settled across her face. “That’s a nice idea. Maybe I should call them tomorrow and set some thing up.”
    The clock on the mantel tick-tocked softly, letting them know that it would be bedtime soon.
    As Lily lifted her china cup and took a sip, Jeremy asked, “Chamomile?”
    She nodded. “I thought it would help me sleep.”
    They’d both been plagued by insomnia lately, but hesupposed that was to be expected. They had a lot on their minds.
    â€œAre you sure you wouldn’t like a little tea or a night cap to help you unwind?” she asked.
    â€œNot tonight. But thanks.”
    He set the water on a ceramic, felt-lined coaster and scanned the room, with its traditional Western-style decor. The leather sofas and chairs were fairly new, but the rest of the furniture—the painted armoires, the long oak dining table with high-back chairs, the bookshelves and various pieces of pottery—were antiques that boasted a Spanish influence.
    So did the plaster walls, which had been adorned with colorful paintings and hand-woven blankets that had been created by local artisans. One piece in particular had been made by Isabella, J.R.’s wife, and given to Lily as a gift.
    Needless to say, J.R. and Isabella’s home had been decorated in a similar style, which appealed to Jeremy.
    When he first came to Red Rock to celebrate what should have been his father’s wedding to Lily, he’d stayed in one of the many guest rooms at J.R.’s ranch. But several weeks after his dad went missing, he’d moved to the Double Crown, hoping to provide Lily with some comfort and support while they waited for William’s return.
    Six years ago, Lily lost her husband, Ryan, to a brain tumor, and two years later, William was left a widower when Molly died. The surviving spouses had always been friends and had grieved for each other’s loss.
    Over time, their friendship had deepened, and they gradually fell in love.
    Jeremy couldn’t have been more pleased to learn of their plan to marry. William and Lily deserved to be happy and to spend their golden years together.
    But now, at least